Looks Can Kill
by Skitts
Summary: Hell hath no fury than woman with a hairbrush. .:Zexion & Kairi:. Come on, it's only a makeover.


**Looks Can Kill  
**hell hath no fury than woman  
with a hairbrush.

**- - - - - - - ---**,--- - - - - - - -

A makeover, Kairi called it.

"Don't worry, Zexy, it's just a simple makeover!" she had trilled as the lilac-haired boy had struggled away from the evil pink pyjama'd girl with a hairbrush clamped in her chipped strawberry-painted talons and smudged eyeliner around her…

What colour _were_ her eyes, anyway? Sort of blue-ish when they turned that way and caught the light like **that**, but maybe with a hint of violet highlighting, just like Olette's new hair extensions. Only… Now, under the cheap lighting of Olette's room that liked to fizz on and off at random intervals, they looked sort of… Green? Apple-green.

Zexion shook himself – what the hell _was_ this girl, anyway, apart from Olette's best friend and a make-up artist? A bowl of fruit?

_No_, she was not a bowl of fruit, despite her strawberry nail varnish and apple green eyes. She was an evil **demon**.

Of course, to the quite shy-ish book-hugging Zexion who preferred to live out most of his high school days in the safety of a small, mould-smelling corner of the library under the watchful eye of Miss. Gainsborough, the faintly rose-smelling librarian, most girls were monsters.

Beasts with cell phones superglued to their ears – "Oh-em-gee, no. Wait? Oh. My. God. Axel didn't _really_ ask Roxas out, did he?" (even though Zexion knew damn well he didn't, being aforementioned red-headed pyromaniac's best friend) – and make-up borne from whale blubber – "It's not whale blubber, silly boy! It's **lipstick**." - smeared over their faces like tribal paint and nails _this_ long (**and** pretty damn pointy with it).

Infact, the _only_ girl Zexion had ever conversed with properly was his little sister, Olette, who resented being labelled as such because "I'm only _one_ year younger than you, Zexy. **And** I'm taller than you."

Well, Olette (he conversed with her too much than he'd care for, actually – mostly over who's turn it was to empty the dishwasher), and now Kairi, the evil red-headed girl who was currently dragging a hairbrush through his lilac locks brutally as if waging a war.

It sure felt like mines and numerous other explosives were being lobbed upon the poor boy. He was already planning out his tombstone – '_loving brother and son, death by fashionista. Further proof that looks can kill_.'

"Kairi! Stop it! Lemme _go_!" moaned the poor wounded soldier, aware that if he stayed locked up within the confines of Olette's evil, orange-painted, The Birthday Massacre (and other such cheerful bands) poster-covered room of doom and gloom and stuff Kairi would eventually yank his head off.

And _then_ she'd probably play bowls with it or put it on a pointy stick or something, knowing the cruel wiles of the opposite sex.

"If you'd stop _squirming_ it wouldn't hurt nearly so much," growled Kairi, hands raking through his lilac hair and brush digging into his scalp.

"Did you have a bad day or something?" inquired Zexion in-between gasps and winces and other such grotesque faces and noises.

"No. Why?" replied the tight-lipped Kairi, still intent on severing his head from his body and using it as a football.

"Because you're being really _violent_," the boy started. He knew an awful lot about body language and scapegoatism due to endless hours in the library all huddled up like an old granny, busying himself with having no life. "Are you trying to take your anger out o- owwww!"

Zexion inhaled deeply and bit his bottom lip, hoping that this would silence his embarrassing stuck-piggy squeals, but no – the brush nipped at his poor, bruised, battered scalp again and again, extracting a series of moans and a few garbled "Kairi!"s that would not have sounded out of place in a bad porno.

The red-head grinned evilly and dove the brush back again, giggling all the while like a maniacal child playing decapitate-the-Barbie-dolls with a homemade guillotine.

Oh, this _was_ fun.

**- - - - - - - ---**,--- - - - - - - -

Olette held the two glasses of orange juice carefully in her arms as she made her way to the door, pausing as she heard a series of moans seeping out from under the bottom of the purple-painted piece of wood.

"Ow! God, Ka-_riiiiii_!"

"Stop moaning and take it like a **man**."

"Fhttt… You're doing it _too hard_."

Olette's eyes widened as she, with that instinct all girls are born with, put down the two drinks and reached inside her pocket for her mobile phone, all tucked up nicely in-between pieces of fluff and spare change and old bus tickets.

"Hey Axel. Homygawd, you'll never guess what. Well yeah, I know Sora broke up with her today but geez, she's a fast worker."

**- - - - - - - ---**f**in;**,--- - - - - - - -

**a.n: **this was cuz i was feeling uninspired & heff-face gave me some word prompts (scapegoat & hairbrush) so I was like lol this is for sequizurx, for being cool.


End file.
